


Refuge

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: When they're in bed together, they can put her illness out of their minds--at least for a little while.





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

He’s somehow managed to get his head tangled in his shirt and sweater, trying to pull them both off at once.  Next to him on the bed, Scully starts giggling, which he supposes could be considered vaguely insulting in this context.  Right now, though, Mulder loves hearing it.

“You need a hand?” she asks.

“Please, Scully,” he says.  “Take pity on me.”

She moves closer and starts trying to disentangle him.  “How did you even do this?” she asks, as they both wrestle with a sleeve.  “A little bit overeager, maybe?”  And then the shirt is off his head, finally, and he can look at her, lying beside him, a smile on her face, still giggling a bit. 

It’s such a welcome sight—Scully happy, carefree even—and Mulder wants to do everything he can to keep her feeling that way, at least for tonight.  The question is exactly how to do that, especially when this part of their relationship is still so new.  This is only their second time being together like this, and there wasn’t much laughing the first time.  ( _Don’t let me go,_ she’d said, and he’d known that she wasn’t just talking about his hands on her hips, but he hadn’t said anything, only pulled her closer.)

Well, he’ll have to do his best.  This is Scully, after all: the situation may be unfamiliar, but she is not.  So he grins back at her and says, “Of course I’m eager, Scully.  I have thought about this for years, after all.”

She seems to like that; she flushes a little, and the smile doesn’t leave her face.  “Years?” she says.  “How long are we talking, exactly?”

“That depends,” he says.  He nuzzles the sensitive spot on her neck, hears her let out a breathy sigh.  “Would you say it’s inappropriate to fantasize about someone you’ve only worked with for a couple of weeks?  Because if you would, we’re definitely not talking since March of ’92.”  Of course, things have shifted since then; there’s a difference between _Scully’s pretty damn gorgeous_ and _I’m in love with Scully_.  He doesn’t say that, though.  It’s a little much for now.

“Why would I say something like that?” she asks.  She shifts on the bed, reaching behind herself to unfasten her bra.  “That would be very hypocritical of me.”  Her smile is more of a smirk now, and she licks her lips as she looks at him and slips out of the bra, and God, he wishes they could be here like this forever.

He reaches out to touch her breasts, lightly for now, drawing circles that move slowly closer to her nipples.  “Well, March of ’92, then,” he says.  “And this afternoon.  And a lot of times in between.”

“Mmm,” she says.  “Why don’t you—oh, that feels good, Mulder—why don’t you tell me about some of those times?”

“Gosh, where to start, Scully?”  He keeps stroking one breast with his hand and lowers his mouth to the other.  “Give me a minute to think about it.”  It’s a very enjoyable minute, his lips and tongue on her breasts, her hands coming up to run through his hair and down the back of his neck.  “Well,” he eventually begins, “all those times it was just a few of us stuck somewhere, those were pretty good for imagining things like this.  That time in Alaska, for one.”  He runs his tongue over a nipple.  “Or that time in the forest in Washington.”  Sucks on the other.  “I think it’s the isolation, you know?  Or maybe I have a thing for you in puffy coats.”

She snorts.  “You should have said something earlier.  I could have put one on.”

“Remember it for next time,” he says.  He starts to trail kisses down her stomach.  “And then… I’ve really thought about this a lot.”  How could he help it?  How could he help wanting her this way, loving her this way, when she is who she is?  How could he help having these feelings for her every time she shows how smart she is, how brave she is, how honest and true she is?  Every time she shows that she’s Dana Scully, the most incredible person he knows, the person he can least bear the thought of losing? 

Don’t say all that.  “Well, this might sound weird, but I’ve already admitted to a puffy coat thing, so what the hell?  I definitely thought about this the time you shot me and the next thing I knew I woke up with very few clothes on.”

“Mulder…I…oh come on, that was for medical reasons!” she protests.  “I had to look you over.”

“Ah, the truth comes out at last,” he says.  “Just how many times have you looked me over, Scully?”  He unzips her pants as he’s talking and starts to pull them down, along with her underwear.

“That is not what I meant!” Scully exclaims.  “Mulder, you know that’s not what I meant!”  There’s laughter in her voice, even as she shakes her head.

“Scully, however you want to look me over, you won’t hear me complaining,” he says.  And now she’s naked, and he lowers his head again, alternating kisses between her thighs.  She draws in a long, shaky breath.  “You know what else I’ve thought about?” he asks.  “I’ve thought about tasting you, Scully.  Just like this.  On a lot of occasions when it probably wasn’t strictly professional.”

She doesn’t laugh when he has his mouth on her, pleasuring her with long, slow, teasing licks, his tongue circling her clit.  She makes other sounds instead—soft moans that grow louder, instructions that he eagerly follows, and eventually just his name, “Mulder Mulder Mulder” until she comes, until he feels her shake and then lie still.

He lifts his head.  She’s smiling again.  “Come here,” she says, and he moves to kiss her.  “Now take off your pants,” she says softly, “and show me what else you’ve thought about.”

She reaches up to touch him as they make love, her fingers gripping at his back.  He brings his own fingers down to her clit, stroking in time with his movements.  “God, Scully,” he tells her, “you feel amazing…thought about this a lot, but…never got it quite right…”

“Me too,” she says.  “I thought about this so much, Mulder…oh my God…”

“Great minds,” he says, and he kisses her.  “You close?” he asks; he’s very close himself, and he wants to make this as good for her as he possibly can.

“Yeah,” she breathes.  “Yeah, just a little more…like that, like that…yes yes yes Mulder, right _there_ …”  When he feels her let go, he lets go too,  groaning her name as he finishes.

She cuddles up against him afterwards, her head resting against his chest.  He tries to think of something to say that will make her smile again.  Right now, he’d like it more than anything if they could keep up this affectionate teasing until they both fell asleep.

But she speaks before he can.  “I’m scared,” she says, so quietly that he’s not sure he actually hears it, that he doesn’t just feel her breath against him and see the words’ meaning in her face.

He doesn’t know what to say.  If he says something like _Don’t be, you’ll be all right_ , she’ll look at him like he’s stupid or naïve or just lying to make her feel better, and she’ll have every right to do so.  If he says something like _I’m scared too_ , that will be true, at least.  He doesn’t know if he’s ever been this scared.  The thought of losing Scully to her cancer, of her death coming because of something he dragged her into, of being without her—it’s the most frightening, unbearable thing he knows.  It is also inescapable, at least not for long.  But he doesn’t want to say that either.  This is the first time she’s put it in so many words, but she must be more frightened than he is, and he doesn’t want her to think that it’s her job to comfort him.

So Mulder doesn’t say much, in the end.  “I’m here,” he says, and he kisses the top of her head and holds her close.

 

They’re both naked, and they’re as close to each other as two people can possibly get, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.  Mulder wants Scully so much that he can hardly think, and right now the only thing that he can think about is kissing every inch of her.  He presses his lips to her body, wanting to take her in.  Scully lets out a loud “Oh!” and oh God, he is sucking pretty hard on her neck, isn’t he. 

“Is this too much?” he asks her, pausing.

She shakes her head.  “No.  No.  God no,” she says, and she sounds as frenzied as he feels.  She reaches out to touch his cock, her hand moving up and down, and he moans at her touch.  “God, I want you just like this,” she says.  “I want you to fuck me so hard…”

Her words do nothing to calm him, and if that’s what she wants, that’s most certainly what he wants too.  He strokes his fingers between her legs, and God, she’s so wet, and he doesn’t want to wait, and he’s about to ask her if they can go ahead when she forestalls him.

“I’m ready,” she says.  “Come on, Mulder, I need you now.”  He’s hardly all the way inside her when she’s urging him to move, and then he stops thinking almost entirely.  It’s only sensations now—the feeling of moving inside Scully, moving harder and faster as she urges him on, her body pressing against his, her fingernails digging into him, her voice saying his name and his own replying with hers again and again and again.  He has no idea how he manages to hold it together until she comes, clenching around him, letting out a loud cry that has to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, and then it’s over for him in seconds.

They pull apart a bit when they’re done—they’re both very sweaty at this point—and lie beside each other.  Mulder’s still trying to catch his breath, and he can hear Scully breathing fast too.  But soon he wants to kiss her, and he turns on his side to bring his mouth to hers.

Apparently she had the same idea, and their heads collide pretty hard.  Judging from the way she’s holding her face, he thinks he must have banged his chin into her nose.

“Ouch,” he says.  “Shit, I’m sorry, Scully.  Are you okay?”

She takes her hand away and nods.  “Yeah, I’m okay,” she says.  “I’m okay.”  Suddenly there’s a quaver in her voice.  “I’m okay, Mulder.  I’m okay.”  He’d like to have a picture of her smiling like this.  “I’m okay,” she repeats one last time, and then she pulls him into a real kiss, her hand cupping the back of his head.

And she is okay, that’s the marvel of it.  They’d thought mere weeks ago that there was almost no chance of them being together here and now.  That there was almost no chance of their being together anywhere and now, that they would never work together or talk together or touch each other again, that he would still be here and she would be gone.  The thought is still a painful one, but less so when Mulder remembers everything that’s happened since then.  Scully coming back to work.  Scully complaining until she got to come back to work.  Scully telling him, that morning when he came into her hospital room, just what she’s been telling him now: that she was going to be okay.

They both know that they can’t take what they have for granted, and right now, Mulder wants to cherish every minute he spends with Scully.  So he leans into the kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist.


End file.
